


let your body do the work

by haloud



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nebulous Well-Adjusted Future, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: Michael comes home tired from a long day, and Alex gives him some more work to do.





	let your body do the work

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is from work by fifth harmony and no im not sorry
> 
> this fic is not for redistribution without express permission.

Despite the distance Alex’s cabin is from town, Michael is usually the first one home after a workday. Still, it’s pretty normal for him to get caught up with a project or visit with Isobel or Max or go to the lab, so Alex rarely worries; even as the sun starts to set, all he does is check his phone and hope Michael actually remembers to text him his plans—or maybe hoping he doesn’t, so there’s something to tease him about.

Alex has finally given in and eaten dinner by the time Michael finally opens the door and greets him with a sleepy-eyed smile.

Leaning against the wall to watch Michael take his boots off, Alex says, “What held you up?”

“Coupla no-shows at the Crashdown. Liz texted me and I stopped by to help them with a couple deliveries.”

“That was nice of you.”

“Eh, not that nice. I got dinner out of it, so I had an ulterior motive.”

Finally, Michael leans over to give Alex a kiss hello, and Alex wraps his hand around the back of Michael’s neck to deepen it as Michael hums happily. They pull apart—but then at the same time, they lean back in to kiss again, long and lingering.

When they separate again, Michael kisses the corner of Alex’s mouth, then his jaw before he yawns and stretches and says, “I’m beat. I’m gonna go take a nice hot shower.”

“I’ll be waiting—and you’ve already kept me waiting this evening, so take that under advisement.”

“Yes, sir,” Michael purrs, his hand sliding down and down from Alex’s waist to squeeze his ass.

Laughing, Alex wraps his hand around Michael’s wrist, squeezing him tight in a little warning, but all it does is make Michael grin and lean back in for another kiss.

“Get going,” Alex says, not giving him what he wants, not even when he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Okay, okay. Be ready.”

“I could say the same to you.”

* * *

Michael is always hot, a furnace between the sheets, but when he slides into bed after a shower his skin is _blazing. _It makes Alex want to wrap around him forever, so he does, rolling them so Michael is beneath him, so they’re pressed chest to chest, and then he leans in to nuzzle the sunbeam heat of the crook of his neck, to taste the water on his skin. Michael ruffles his hair, rubs between his shoulder blades, his hand as warm as the rest of him. Seeking out more and more of that heat, Alex starts his hands wandering, down Michael’s chest to his stomach to the front of his boxers, where he palms Michael’s half-hard cock through the fabric, earning a little _mmm _from his stubbled throat. Alex rasps his lips against that throat to feel the vibrations, and rubs at Michael’s groin some more to make it happen again and again, until he moans open-mouthed so sweetly that Alex has to roll down his waistband to touch him skin to skin.

“Fuck, Alex…” He says, voice already slurring, half from sleep, half from pleasure. He rolls his hips languid and slow, fucking into Alex’s grip until Alex pulls his hand away and reaches into the bedside table for lube and a condom.

“Love your hands,” Michael purrs as Alex slicks up his fingers and gives Michael’s cock another tug. Michael pulls his knees up to his chest to give Alex full access to his hole, and his eyes slip closed as his mouth falls open again at the feeling of the first finger breaching him, and when Alex works the second finger in beside it, he wiggles his hips back against the pressure, pulling him in deeper. Inside him is just as hot as the rest of him, and Alex scissors his fingers, basking in it and the way the muscles of his stomach clench as he arches up, begging for every scrap of pleasure.

But he doesn’t know from begging, not yet. Alex pets his free hand down the outside of Michael’s thigh, then digs his thumb into the muscle in a firm massage, drawing out an even louder moan.

“Sore?” he asks.

“Mm. Little bit.”

Alex penetrates him with a third finger, and it’s easy. Michael always opens up for him easily, so loose and relaxed and trusting. Alex wants to _devour _him.

“Are you ready for more?” He pitches his voice the way Michael likes it, so low it should be just on the edge of hearing, so soft it couldn’t be more obviously meant only for him.

Either the tone or the question itself, it makes his eyes flutter open, glassy and dilated. He nods, spreading his legs to welcome Alex between them, but Alex shakes his head with a little smile on his face, and rolls off to the side, palming Michael’s hips to get him rolling with him. Michael throws his leg over to straddle Alex’s hips, and their cocks roll together hot and velvety, and Michael gets distracted by that sensation for a second, and Alex lets him. He frots them together until Alex’s belly is sticky with precum, and then Alex palms his hips again to still him.

“If you’re ready for more, I want you to ride me. Michael.”

It isn’t worded like an order, but then, Michael has always been smart enough to figure these things out. Eyes half-lidded, he straightens up swaying, wobbling a bit, knees squeezing Alex’s thighs to keep himself upright. It takes him a couple tries and a little gentle encouragement before he manages to position himself correctly, manages to sink down on Alex’s cock with tiny little rolls of his hips, with a stuttery grunt as he bottoms out and circles his hips again. Alex lets him set a rhythm and matches it, sliding in and out of his body, digging circles into the muscles of his thighs, those muscles trembling, sensitive and responsive, under his hands. Michael’s head falls back, revealing the long curve of his throat, the working of his Adam’s apple with every sound and swallow. He’s got one hand planted on the bed for balancing, and his other hand slides down his chest to rest right below his sternum, moving every time he gasps in a breath and every time he gasps it back out again. His body rolls, sloppy, languid, and graceless, as he works himself up and down—

And then, the next time he bottoms out, Alex grabs his hips to hold him still.

Michael’s head falls forward again, mouth popping open with a soft, wet sound. Like he’s testing how far Alex will let him go, he grinds down on his cock. Alex gives him two or three passes, watching the way his cock bobs and his toes curl up, before he grips him tighter to hold him even more still.

“’Lex—”

“Did I say you could stop?”

“Nnnh…” Michael moans as he tries to lift his hips again but can’t get the strength behind his quivering thighs to get loose of Alex’s hold. He manages maybe an inch, maybe less than, before Alex yanks him back down and he goes, helpless, another _aaahn _punching out of his throat.

“I know you can keep going,” Alex says, and he can’t help but smirk at the high flush on Michael’s cheeks, at the sweat beading on his skin, at the artless slope of his posture. The heat from the shower has gone out of him, and in its place is the heat of exertion, of the blood rushing hot beneath his skin.

Michael battles against Alex’s tight grip again and again, his eyes staying locked on Alex’s face like he’s in some sort of trance; even when his eyes want to close again, even when his exhausted, shaking legs give out on one side, throwing him off balance and changing the angle so he cries out sharply, his hands flying down to scrabble at the backs of Alex’s where they stay wrapped around his narrow hips, the plush curve of his ass.

“Alex, Alex—” he babbles.

And Alex says, “What’s the magic word?”

“_Please, please, Alex—” _

“Go on, then.”

And Alex releases him at last, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Michael, who can barely hold himself upright, who’s lost all sense of rhythm, who has to stop and shudder his way through the sensation every time Alex’s cock drags across his prostate, and it gets a little harder to start back up again every time. His inner muscles ripple and clench around Alex’s length, just as trembling and overstimulated as the rest of him, and Alex laughs, laughs at the pleasure and the open, wrecked look on Michael’s face as he drives himself past the point of exhaustion just to please him.

“Touch yourself,” he finally commands, and Michael touches his stomach lightly, first, running his hand through the pre smeared on his skin; then he follows orders correctly, a huge sob heaving out of him at the first stroke.

“Please,” he begs again, even though Alex isn’t touching him, isn’t doing anything but lying still with his cock filling Michael up; and Michael rolls his hips again and wails like it’s a surprise, as his hand flies faster and tighter, stroking himself to completion.

It’s only then, when Michael comes all over them both, that Alex seizes him again for leverage and starts fucking into him in earnest. And that’s the final straw, and Michael’s thighs give out at last, sending him tumbling down to hug Alex around his chest and hold on tight as Alex fucks him in short, hard, shallow thrusts, all artless but careening inevitably towards the end, and Alex yanks him up by the hair to kiss him, to devour his slack and panting mouth, swallowing every sob and whine until he’s coming too.

They stay like that for a moment, Michael curled over top of Alex and shaking like he’s run a marathon, every muscle trembling like a new colt, until Alex gently guides him over onto his side. He pulls out in the process, and Michael whines again at the sensation. Nestling him in the crook of his arm, Alex kisses Michael on the forehead first, then the bridge of his nose, then seizes his lips in a kiss much longer and lazier than the frantic kisses they shared before.

“You’re a demon,” Michael says against Alex’s mouth, a smile on his own, his eyes just slits as he watches Alex remove the condom and toss it in the trash.

“Like you’d have it any other way,” Alex fires back, and yeah, he’s smug as fuck seeing the aftershocks in Michael’s prone body.

“We’ll see who’s laughing tomorrow when I can’t walk and get to have you waiting on me.”

“You trapped in bed? I think I’ll still be able to find ways to make you work,” Alex replies, and he rolls them over again so Michael isn’t laying in the wet spot. For all his big talk, he’s pretty tired too, and he’s willing to take one for the team not to have to clean everything up tonight.

Michael groans theatrically, laughs, and then faceplants into Alex’s chest, where he nuzzles in contentedly. And Alex strokes his back until he falls asleep, breathing heavily and softly against his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> i WAS writing something gen but then i realized my next fic posted to ao3 would be #69 so i wrote this instead ;^)
> 
> shout out to chasing for being a wonderful enabler of my smutty ideas and favorite tropes ily <3
> 
> discord @ haloud  
tumblr @ cosmicsolipsism


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